


walking the long road, watching the sky fall

by pageleaf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Multi, Pining, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/pseuds/pageleaf
Summary: Shiro doesn't mean to make it weird.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in the works since i saw voltron for the first time (so a little over a month), but i got...sidetracked. anyway, enjoy! thank you, as always, to plalligator for betaing, and opusculasedfera for commentficcing this with me in the beginning ♥
> 
> this fic assumes that keith, lance, and shiro are all 18yo or above
> 
> title is from "death of a bachelor" by p!atd

Shiro doesn't mean to make it weird.

In fact, he does his best to be very, very normal about Keith and Lance dating. And he succeeds, for a while—until he catches them making out in the middle of the hallway, where anyone could see.

"Guys," he says, weakly. "I know you both have rooms."

"Sorry, Shiro," Keith says, pulling back (but only slightly) from Lance. "We just got a little—"

"—carried away," Lance finishes with a grin. Keith's got him pinned against the wall, but he seems perfectly at home there, and wow, Shiro really should leave.

He clears his throat. "It's fine, just. In private, next time?"

"Sure," Keith says, but for some reason, Shiro doesn't really believe him.

 

He should have known this would be a problem, and to be honest, it's a little bit his fault. But when Keith came to him the week before, practically steaming with frustration, Shiro'd done what he thought he had to do to resolve the situation.

"He cut the sleeves off of _every single one of my shirts_ ," Keith yelled.

"...did he say why?" Shiro asked, bemused.

Keith scoffed. "He said I have 'good arms' and I 'shouldn't hide them.'"

Shiro blinks. "That sounds like a good thing?"

"Well obviously he doesn't _mean_ it," Keith said, tone clearly implying that he thought Shiro was being oblivious. Shiro, however, was starting to think he wasn't the oblivious one.

"Keith," he said. "I'm pretty sure he meant it."

He watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Keith freezes, eyes widening. His mouth fell slightly open. "Wait—" His spine straightened. "I have to go," he said, running back out of the room.

Shiro manfully didn't laugh at him.

 

He's not laughing now, though, as he leaves Keith and Lance to it. He should have known this would be a problem. But the real problem isn't Keith and Lance's foray into public displays of affection. He knows nobody else will care.

No, the problem is Shiro's reaction.

See, the the thing is this: Shiro's so happy for them, happy and a little smug. He's so glad they're working through the sexual tension surrounding them like a thick perfume, learning to dispel it with something other than arguing. It'll be really good for them.

But as soon as his brain catches up with him, halfway to the training deck, Shiro stops dead. He knows himself, knows his own emotions and reactions, even if sometimes he chooses to ignore them. He knows that sweet, sharp ache in his chest, knows that it's not _just_ happiness.

Shit, what an inconvenient time to have such a terrible realization. But it's too late to try to stop it, now; Shiro knows himself, so he knows he can't just go on like nothing's changed. But—for obvious reasons, not least because there's no way they think of him that way—Shiro can't say anything to Keith and Lance. Which means that there's only one thing he _can_ do.

 

Shiro's always been good at avoidance, and he puts those hard-won skills to good use, avoiding being alone with either Keith or Lance too often. And it sort of works, except.

Well.

It seems like Shiro's not doing such a good job hiding his own feelings, because Hunk knocks on his door at the end of the first day and says, "Hey, I tried a new recipe, tried to recreate some more Earth cuisine. You look like you need some comfort food, wanna try?" Shiro thanks him, tells him no, he's fine, but yes, he'll try some. (It's very good. It doesn't help.)

On the second day, Keith tells him, "Shiro, you've seemed kind of down lately, everything okay? Did...something happen?" Shiro doesn't really know what he says in the ensuing panicked haze, but it must work, because Keith backs off with only a couple concerned glances.

Lance is next, offers to spar with him in case he needs to "take his mind off anything." Shiro would take him up on it, only he's afraid close combat won't improve his emotional turmoil in any way whatsoever.

Pidge, though, is great—only asks once if Shiro's remembered anything recently (and understandably, because it might involve Pidge's family, too). After Shiro says no, he hasn't, Pidge just sits there with Shiro in comfortable silence, tinkering with some new robotic device, keeping him company.

But when Allura corners him after a couple days and says, "Shiro, is there anything I can do? I understand that recovering from trauma is an arduous process, but you should know that you have _friends_ , and all we want to do is hel—" Shiro decides that what he's doing isn't quite enough.

He cuts Allura off with a tight, "I'm honestly fine, please don't," and then retreats to his room to regroup.

 

Next, Shiro tries leaning into it instead of pushing it away. He strips off all his clothes and lies down on his back on the bed, slicks up his hand with space lube and _attempts_ to get himself off. It's all too easy to call thoughts of Keith and Lance to mind, especially since he's already seen them halfway to having sex. All he has to do is think of Keith pinning Lance to the floor the same way he'd pinned him up against that wall, kissing the smirk off Lance's face, and his entire body flushes with heat.

It's quickly followed by pang of guilt so sharp that he actually snatches his hand away from his dick, so.

Avoidance it is, then.

 

He picks distracting himself with work as his next tactic.

Fortunately, they've all been so busy learning how to be paladins that they haven't really explored all the castle-ship has to offer—which means that Shiro has a lot of time to wander around the castle and away from his feelings.

On the first day, he gets hopelessly turned around in the west (he's been taking the front of the castle as north, for his own sanity) end of the castle, until he happens upon a pair of big solid wooden doors. Shiro braces his shoulder against them and _shoves_ , fully prepared for them to be stuck. Instead, the fold in smoothly, and he goes tumbling to the floor.

"Ouch," Shiro mutters, getting up and dusting himself off. But any complaints he might have go flying out the window when he looks up to see rows upon rows of bookshelves, beautiful under the high vaulted ceiling and against the elaborate windowpanes. " _Oh_ ," he gasps reverently, and goes to explore.

He doesn't get very far before dinner, but he finds a number of books on alien races they've come across, including an entire three shelves on the Balmera and its people. He picks up a couple of relevant tomes to take back to his quarters and leaves, shutting the doors behind himself reluctantly.

That night, over dinner, Pidge looks at Shiro askance and says, "Where were you all day?"

"I found a library," Shiro says, and it's the right thing to say, because Pidge's eyes go wide and wondrous behind their glasses.

"Oh!" Allura smacks herself in the forehead. "I completely forgot about the library, I can't believe I haven't told you about it until now.

"SHOW ME, NOW," Pidge says, halfway out of their seat before Hunk pushes them down by the shoulder.

"Finish your food," he says, before his expression wavers. "Or—or did you not like it?"

It works, because Pidge huffs and sticks their spoon back in their food goo.

"Tomorrow," Shiro says, amused.

 

He keeps his promise the following day, retracing his steps to lead Pidge and Hunk across the castle to the library. Keith and Lance had begged off, saying that they had some "new sparring drills" to try. Neither of them had looked Shiro in the eye as they said it, though, so he has no illusions as to what they're really up to.

Whatever. Good for them.

Shiro opens the door a little more gracefully this time, and points Hunk to the section on alien races while Pidge stands in the middle, stunned.

"I'm going to go see what's through there," Shiro says, point at a door inset in the library wall. "You'll both be okay?"

"We're great," Pidge breathes, and Shiro laughs as he heads past.

This door actually reveals itself to be metal, not wood like it'd seemed in the shadows. It doesn't have a handle that Shiro can see, and he stares at it in puzzlement for a moment before tentatively resting his left hand on it.

It slides open instantly, and he blinks.

"Whoa," Pidge says from behind him. "I know Allura said she keyed the locks to our handprints, but that's _neat_."

"Yeah," Shiro says. "Neat."

The lights come on when they enter the room, warm and golden, which is a pleasant surprise; Shiro'd half-expected stark, blueish-white lighting, like the barracks back at the garrison.

There's a couple chairs along the side of the room, but the main focus seems to be the large, rectangular table in the center of the room. It's flat and smooth and empty, and Shiro approaches it with caution. Slowly, he touches his palm to the tabletop.

Immediately, holographic miniatures of the lions and the castle spring up on the table's surface, and Shiro makes a little noise of surprise.

"Huh," he says to himself. "It's like—a war room, maybe? For planning strategy?"

"Did you say something?" Hunk yells from the other room.

"No," Shiro calls back. He reaches out and grabs at the tiny black lion, and gets a tiny shock of haptic feedback, like there's something there to actually hold. He moves his hand and the lion moves with it. There's a button on the side of the table, and when he presses it, the lion snaps back to its original position, before floating down the same path Shiro took it.

"Neat," he says.

 

The strategy room (as Pidge dubs it, since war room is a little heavy, and Hunk's suggestion was "warm holo table room") becomes Shiro's retreat for when his brain is doing too much. He asks the two of them to keep it quiet for now, and they agree with only a couple of concerned looks.

It doesn't last long though, when he pulls out a new formation while they're out in their lions a week later.

"Where'd that come from?" Keith says, as they're wiping the dust from their lions' exteriors.

Selfishly, Shiro wants to keep it secret, but he knows that he can't be the only one creating new strategy. Voltron is a team.

"Here," he says, setting his helmet down. "Follow me, I'll show you."

 

So after that, he doesn't get to spend much time alone, since Keith accompanies him to the strategy room more often than not. And when Shiro isn't overwhelmed with how badly he wants to touch him, it's actually really good. Keith's been slowly taking on more authority in the team, so it's only right that he has a hand in their tactics.

The only problem is that Shiro _is_ overwhelmed, constantly, especially when Keith's leaning against his side to point at a piece, their hands brushing as they both reach for the castle at the same time. Shiro loves Keith, and has missed spending time with him, but he also—makes it hard to breathe, sometimes.

One day, though, he tells Shiro he has something else to work on, leaving Shiro to make his way to the strategy room alone. It's only been a few days, but apparently Shiro's already gotten used to his presence, because he feels...bereft. _Make up your mind_ , he chides himself, as he enters the room.

He sighs, pressing his palm to the tabletop and watching the pieces flicker to life.

"So this is what you've been doing."

Shiro tenses and turns to see Lance leaning against the doorway. "Lance," he says, stupidly.

"Yep," Lance says cheerfully. "Can I try?"

"Go ahead."

Shiro watches, bemused, as Lance walks over, casually reaching out and touching the miniature red lion. "Hmm," he says, before grabbing each lion in turn and pulling them into the spots for the first formation Shiro had shown them.

"You remembered," Shiro says.

Lance shrugs. "Sure," he says. "It seemed important when you did it. Now," he mutters to himself, "how do I get these to move..."

After that, Lance doesn't join them all the time, but when he does, his presence is unfairly distracting. Usually he lounges in the corner, pretending to not pay attention. But occasionally, he'll toss out a suggestion that's so unexpectedly brilliant it shuts both Keith and Shiro up.

They settle into an easy, comfortable rhythm. Shiro switches between bouncing ideas off of them and watching them snark at each other, and it's so _nice_ that it's killing him.

 

Here's the thing, though: Shiro's being completely oblivious. But he's not the only one; Keith's missing all the signs like he's got blinders on, too. Lance seems to be only one who's picked up on anything at _all_ , which is...not something that he's used to.

It's obvious that Keith's in love with Shiro, has been for a long time, and it's equally obvious that Shiro feels the same way. But the problem is that Lance actually _really really_ likes Keith, and he thinks—he hopes—that Keith likes him too. What they have is good, good for them both.

And he knows that polyamory is a thing, okay, he's not new to this, but even though _he's_ up for it, he's not convinced Shiro wants that at all. And as much as he wants to give Shiro everything he wants, everything he deserves, if what Shiro wants is to be with Keith monogamously...that might be a little beyond Lance.

So he starts thinking, starts planning. Tries to figure out what Shiro wants, exactly. Tries to figure out how to make them all happy.

 

"Hey, Shiro, you haven't been sparring much lately, have you?"

Shiro answers absently. "No, I have, I've just been using the training bots." He ponders the configuration of holographic ships on the tabletop—they'd figured out that morning how to make the table simulate enemy ships as well.

He sees Lance come closer out of the corner of his eye, and looks up. "That's great," Lance says, "but you should train with us, too! We've been learning all sorts of moves that you don't know about. What if you can't keep up?" He grins.

Shiro shoots him a sideways look. "I think I'll be okay."

"Yeah, but come on!" Lance nudges Shiro with his shoulder, and Shiro fights the urge to lean into it. "At least spar with me once."

"Lance," Shiro sighs, "I'd like to, but I'm kind of busy—"

"Come on, Shiro." Lance looks at him from under his lashes. "Please?"

Fuck.

"Okay," Shiro says.

Lance pulls him along reluctantly to the training deck, programs the simulation to create a simple padded platform. "I was thinking we use staffs. First one to get pinned or step outside bounds loses?"

Shiro nods, taking the staff that Lance offers him, already dreading this.

He was right to dread it, it turns out, because while he knocks Lance to the floor without much of a fight, Lance immediately smirks at him and _twists_ until before Shiro knows it, their positions are reverse. And maybe Shiro'd be able to deal with being underneath all of Lance's body weight, except Lance is _still smirking_ , and Shiro just—has to blush, avert his eyes, try to push down his arousal.

Lance's smirk doesn't fade, but his eyes grow calculating. "You okay?"

"Fine," Shiro says, shifting pointedly until Lance lets him up.

There's an awkward silence, and then: "Soooo," Lance prods. "Did I impress you with my new moves?"

And just like that, the tension vanishes. Shiro huffs, fond. "Sure did."

 

Shiro hopes that's the end of it, that Lance didn't notice anything odd. And it seems like it might be, because nothing changes for the next couple of days. Shiro gets used to tamping down the signs of his feelings around Lance and Keith, even if he can't block out the feelings themselves. Avoidance clearly didn't work, so maybe acceptance will?

(He thinks, for a millisecond, about distancing himself from them for real, of no longer being near them outside a team leader capacity. But it only takes one thought of what Keith's hurt expression would look like to make that idea die.)

And if he can't hide the way he instinctively tries for physical affection with them, maybe he can deflect it. Shiro knows that the team cares for each other like a family, and that he's become somewhat of the default older brother; he can work with that. With that in mind, he lets himself slip a little into ruffling Keith's hair, giving Lance one-armed hugs. Shiro'd feel a little guilty about the deceit, but both of the others seem to enjoy it.

Shiro's ready to mark this tactic a success—right up until Keith kisses him.

 

Wait. Rewind.

See, the thing is—after Lance figured out that Shiro might be into _him_ as well, the first thing he did was go to Keith and say, "Hey, dude, what do you think about dating Shiro?"

Keith didn't even look up from his book. "I'm dating you, dumbass."

"No, ugh, I mean—dating Shiro _as well_ as me."

And Keith's head came up, slowly, disbelievingly, like he thought this might be a joke, like Lance would do that—which, come on, he'd made some jokes in poor taste before, but not _this_. Finally, after a long moment, Keith said, "I'm listening."

 

Keith knows Shiro, is the thing, knows him like he knows himself. He knows exactly how much Shiro loves to angst and overthink shit and get trapped in his own misdirected guilt. It's how he knows that the only way to shock Shiro out of his obliviousness is to quite literally _shock_ him out of it.

So he and Lance followed Shiro to the strategy room on one sunny, quiet afternoon. They chatted with him comfortably. They waited for the right moment.

And then Keith kissed him.

 

Keith's leaning up on his toes, one hand braced on Shiro's broad shoulders for support, one hand on the back of his hand for grounding; Shiro kissing back on autopilot, melting into it, hands curling loosely into fists before grasping helplessly at Keith's waist.

Shiro's brain coming back online and him throwing himself away, halfway across the room. "What," he gasps. "Keith, what—" He looks at Keith (and Lance, who's been standing a foot away the whole time) and starts panicking.

"We want you to date us," Keith says, flat-out. Neither he nor Lance is one for dancing around an issue. 

"Both of us," Lance adds, coming up to lean on the wall Shiro's pressed himself against. He's standing closer than is strictly necessary, but Shiro finds it inappropriately comforting despite himself. "And also have sex with us," Lance adds, and Shiro chokes, even as Keith rolls his eyes/

"A little subtlety?" Keith asks acidly.

Lance widens his eyes, points to himself innocently. "Unsubtle? Me?"

"Wait," Shiro says, catching up. "You want to date _me_?"

"Um, yes?" Lance says. "Why is that confusing? Shiro, you're a catch."

"What? No i'm not," Shiro protests. "I'm too—too—"

Keith huffs. "Too, what, damaged?"

Lance makes a buzzer noise. "Too hot, maybe," he leers. In the next second, though, he sobers. "Seriously, Shiro," he says. "If you don't want to, that's ok." He steps away slightly, standing next to Keith, giving Shiro space. "But if you do want to, you _have_ to know we want you more than anything."

Shiro reaches out, helpless. Then he catches sight of himself, his Galra arm outstretched toward them, and starts to pulls back. "I shouldn't—" he begins.

Keith grabs the arm, pulls it back toward him, tugging Shiro along with it. "Don't do that," he says, and brings Shiro's hand up to his face. "We're not afraid of you, so don't do that."

Shiro could pull away. He knows they'd let him, trusts them to hear it when he tells them no. But he doesn't _want_ to. God, does he not want to. He's spent all this time thinking that they couldn't possibly want him, when really—

"You really mean it?" He asks, hesitant.

" _Yes_ ," Keith and Lance say in unison, and this time.

This time, Shiro believes them.


End file.
